


Morsels Of Bread

by Chiko



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Child Abuse, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-10 18:50:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15297771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiko/pseuds/Chiko
Summary: Hungering for bread and love, Sammy dreams of warm meals sating him and soft hands touching but never hurting.A gesture of affection, kind words and comfort are a feast to the love- starved.





	Morsels Of Bread

The hunger had bothered him for quite some time but throbbing headaches and a little dizziness was nothing compared to the pain he was enduring now: the last few days Samuel had lived on nothing but water and a tube of butter that he'd eaten off the spoon. His abdomen was painfully cramping and he was experiencing a looseness of the bowels as a result of this...unfortunate diet.  
No amount of water could ease the discomfort and there was nothing left in the small kitchen, except for some beer and dust..  
Sammy,while on his bed, pressed the hard pillow to his stomach and tried to ignore the sound of loud snoring coming from the living room.

It must have been early in the morning: the birds had just started chirping and soft rays of sunshine were slowly making their way into his room.  
For him there was no need to rush, he had quit school two years ago and most stores hadn't opened yet.  
The boy turned on his back and looked up at the old ceiling, through his dizziness, strange shapes appeared in front of his eyes - his body felt hollow and numb.  
Knowing that he shouldn't, Sammy started to play his favourite game: it was pathetic really, and he'd never admit to doing it but nobody could guess his thoughts anyway, right ? So, it was very simple- he would imagine sitting at one of these large and classic mahagony tables, most of the times surrounded by cheerful people and warm laughter- his hand held by another and a knee pressed to his own. Hunger was not synonymous with suffering in this world- quiet the contrary! Ir gave him a feeling of warm anticipation because no matter how lavish or expensive, whatever meal he desired would be brought to him !

That was usually the point where his fantasy would take over:

He would start with a thick,creamy soup full of meat and big chunks of bacon- oh yes, he could almost feel it running down his throat, warming his body from the inside. The main course would consist of a large turkey with a side dish of potatoes and red cabbage- just like on these TV-ads that aired during christmas time!  
A large and extra cheesy pizza would follow- or perhaps a big portion of potato salad with german sausages on the side ?  
He'd decide that later because now it was time to focus on his favourite part: dessert.  
It must have been years since Sammy had last tasted the rich flavour of chocolate or smelled the sweetness of sugary pastries. Their dire financial situation didn't allow him to spend money on things that weren't absoulutely necessary. Dozens of pictures and ideas filled his mind,the possibilities were endless:

A rich cocolate- no,cheescake! With vanilla ice cream and afterwards a few cookies he could dunk into milk, just like in his happy childhood days- oh yes, he would savour every single bite and every sip !

The boy didn't know when exactly he had invented his "food game", all he knew was that it gave him comfort when he could practically smell the warm cakes and buttery meat dishes his mind presented to him!

Or maybe- but he wasn't able to finish his thought when suddenly a sharp pain flashed through his abdomen, his stomach painfully contracting yet again. A whimper escaped his lips: he had to eat something, the pain was going to drive him mad otherwise. It was nice to indulge in these fantasies,but they weren't helpful at all when it came to easing his hunger. "Well, there is no use in lazying around anyways" he spoke into the silence. It was another day and another day meant a new chance at finding a job and earning some real money, that he could spend on real food (if he would be allowed to keep some of it). Slowly he sat up, trying not to make any sound on his old mattress- he really didn't want to find out in how bad a mood his uncle was on this particular day.

Silently he made his way towards the plastic bags located in a corner of his room, they held most of his belongings like clothes,money,pencils and some medication. He lived like this since he had been forced to sell most of his furniture that was in the small room to pay for the rent, when they had been especially low on cash.  
The bag reserved for clean clothes was empty most days since they didn't own a washing machine and couldn't afford the launderette when they were unemployed for too long.

See, he would need to pay for the laundromat and the bus tickets which meant skipping a meal or two. Sometimes however, on his lucky days, he would find a little time to search for a few deposit bottles in the trash cans that he could then return for a little extra money, which meant nice, clean clothes **and** food.

That was the best of it: wearing pleasently smelling clothing and eating a warm meal.

Others might take it for granted but to him it was something special to feel no hunger,no itching under his clothes, to look and be treated like any other person.  


Sadly, he wasn't able to afford this luxury very often.

He pulled out an old pair of trousers that was slightly too large on his small frame and the one shirt he could find with the least amount of stains on it. He was always very eager to make a good first impression on potential employers- as well as he could manage, at least.  
Dressing himself was a difficult process, the painful throbbing in his left ankle had started months ago after an "accident" that left him unable to bend his toes which, in additon, made it impossible to walk properly: He limped and could only walk short distances at once,which he would be able to handle just fine, if not for the pitiful stares and strange looks he would earn whenever he went outside. He had never been able to see a doctor and get proper medical attention. No insurance covered him and there was no use in asking his uncle for any help. 

And, perhaps it was also the case that a small part of him felt like he deserved it all: The hunger, the pain, the fear, the many stares...oh yes,the **horrible** stares... 

Sammy didn't like it when people watched him. Didn't like it at all. It seemed as if his presence alone was perceived as an offending gesture: Store owners asking him to leave their shops, because his appearance upset the other costumers, or being preyed on by thugs when it turned dark outside.

So yes, he was afraid of going outside but he still did it because staying inside was even scarier to him.  
The outside world had potential: a new job,  new faces- a new chance at live.

He knew that it was pretty hopeless, that he'd probably never have it much better than this, but if he didn't try at least, then..well, then there was no point in living at all, was there ?

So,that was it, pretty much.

Hope kept him going.

When he finished dressing, he quietly walked towards the apartment door, opening it only a gap wide and dissapearing onto the empty streets- the harsh wind hitting his face.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it ? Comment please !  
> Didn't like it ? Criticism is appreciated!
> 
> English is not my native language, that's why I'm in need of a beta to read over my work !  
> If you are interested, tell me so in the comments ! 
> 
> -C.


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